<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>It's Bloody Little League by allyouneedissleep</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26095975">It's Bloody Little League</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/allyouneedissleep/pseuds/allyouneedissleep'>allyouneedissleep</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Kisses Bingo '20 [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Getting Together, Kid Fic, M/M, Quidditch</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 04:55:40</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,139</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26095975</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/allyouneedissleep/pseuds/allyouneedissleep</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>If you were to ask Oliver he would steadfastly argue that this was NOT his fault. He hadn’t meant to reinstate a childhood rivalry, he was just attempting to cheer on his goddaughter at her Little League Quidditch game. It wasn’t even a thing really, until it went too far. And even then, he refused to admit that perhaps he shouldn’t have let things get to him, it’s just, Marcus Flint.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Marcus Flint/Oliver Wood</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Kisses Bingo '20 [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1867138</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>97</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Kisses Bingo</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>It's Bloody Little League</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>For the Kisses Bingo square: behind the knee kisses / hair braiding. Behind the Knee Kisses was called and I chose to do Hair Braiding.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>If you were to ask Oliver he would steadfastly argue that this was NOT his fault. He hadn’t meant to reinstate a childhood rivalry, he was just attempting to cheer on his goddaughter at her Little League Quidditch game. It wasn’t even a thing really, until it went too far. And even then, he refused to admit that perhaps he shouldn’t have let things get to him, it’s just, <i>Marcus Flint</i>.</p><p>Marcus Flint was a lot of things, to Oliver at least, none of them good. Or well, he supposes that isn’t true, he did push him to become the best Keeper possible and that did lead to him getting into the Big Leagues so maybe it wasn’t all bad. But when he thinks of Flint the first things that come to mind are how he’s an arrogant, pig-headed, dimwitted prick, or was rather. Oliver hasn’t the foggiest idea how the bloke is these days. </p><p>To be quite frank, he hadn’t even thought of the wanker in a good 10 years, which is why it was a complete shock to see him coaching Little League Quidditch outside of London. Like who does he even think he is?</p><p>--</p><p>It all started when Oliver’s goddaughter Lucy insisted he come to cheer her on at her first Little League game. Unfortunately, he had to miss that one because he had a game of his own. She tried to pretend it was okay, but he could tell she was really upset about it. He knew he had to make it up to her though so he wrote Percy an owl to ask when the next game was. Despite his best well wishes, it was another two games before he could attend.</p><p>He had just apparated to the Little League Quidditch field, when he was reminded fondly of the time he was the kid getting excited for a game. He still gets that same nervous excitement before a good matchup now, but it was different then. Winning was only ever something they did for fun, now it feels mandatory if he wants to keep his spot on the team. As a child, the only thing that matters is your love for the game and spending time with other kids your age.</p><p>Oliver walked up to the parents section of the sidelines, searching for his best friend Percy Weasley. He was surprised by the turn out, there seemed to be more family members than he could remember from his time as a wee one playing sport. </p><p>“Perce, Auds,” Oliver leaned in to kiss Percy’s wife Audrey on the cheek, “why is it so crowded?”</p><p>“Oh Oliver, you made it! Luce will be so happy,” Percy clapped him on the back, giving him a quick hug.</p><p>Audrey tilted her head back and laughed, “the single mom’s and Beth’s dad, are all hoping for a chance at the opposing coach. He’s right fit, ain’t he?”</p><p>Oliver scrunched his eyes in confusion. He hadn’t even seen their coach yet, how was he supposed to know what the opposing coach looked like?</p><p>“Audrey, you uh, probably don’t want to open that can of worms with Ollie here,” Percy cleared his throat.</p><p>“What, why not?” she asked.</p><p>“Yeah, Perce? Why wouldn’t I want to see the opposing coach?” Oliver held his hands out in question.</p><p>Percy opened his mouth to reply, but before he could their team came over to the sidelines and Lucy made a beeline for him. Oliver could have sworn he heard Percy mumble, “oh no reason”, but he had a little girl hugging his knees and she was his first priority.</p><p>“Uncle Ollie! You came! Now you get to see me be a Keeper just like you,” Lucy beamed up at him, she had just lost her front tooth and Oliver thought her smile was adorable. Oliver wasn’t actually her uncle, but the poor kid had so many relatives that he just figured it was easier for her to call him that than anything else. Besides, Oliver’s own sister elected to not have kids and he had a sweet spot for his two little nieces. </p><p>“Oh Lucy, my sweet niece, you didn’t tell me you were playing Keeper like your favorite uncle,” Oliver put his hands on his hips and fake pouted. </p><p>Lucy laughed, “Uncle Ollie, if I wanted to play the same position as my favorite uncle I would have been Seeker,” she stuck her tongue out.</p><p>Oliver spluttered, “did you hear that?”, he looked to Percy who was doing a horrible job of hiding his laughter, “I can NOT believe that Uncle Harry is your favorite.”</p><p>Lucy tilted her head in confusion, it was adorable, “he’s not. Uncle Charlie played Seeker, didn’t he Mum?”</p><p>Audrey tucked Lucy’s hair behind his ear, “he sure did honey.”</p><p>“Uncle Charlie? That’s who’s better than me?” </p><p>Lucy patted his hand comfortingly, “you’re great and all, but he has dragons!”</p><p>Oliver nodded, “no, I get that. He’s my favorite too.”</p><p>“Hey!” Percy yelled.</p><p>“Well my sweets, it seems the game is going to start so why don’t you run back to your coach and I’ll stay here and cheer you on everytime you even get close to the quaffle.”</p><p>“Promise?” Lucy blinked up at him.</p><p>“Always,” Oliver smiled back.</p><p>Lucy ran along to her teammates and Oliver settled into the stands with Percy and Audrey. “Where’s Molly, by the way?”</p><p>“She’s staying at Ron’s, she couldn’t be bothered to come watch so she’s going to stay in and read,” Audrey replied.</p><p>“Lucky her,” Percy mumbled.</p><p>Oliver laughed loud and hard, “some things never change, huh Perce?”</p><p>“I love Lucy, but she definitely did NOT take after me with her Quidditch and dragon obsessions,” Percy shook his head sadly.</p><p>They looked to the field where the coaches seemed to be shaking hands, and Oliver could swear that he recognized the other guy. He just couldn’t figure out from where. </p><p>“Hey is that the other coach?” Oliver turned to his friends.</p><p>“Mhmm,” Audrey hummed.</p><p>“He looks familiar, did he ever play professionally?”</p><p>“Yeah,” Percy coughed, “still does I believe.”</p><p>“Huh,” Oliver said, “maybe that’s where I know him from.”</p><p>“Uh huh,” Percy’s voice cracked, “that’s probably it.”</p><p>“What aren’t you telling me?” </p><p>“Oh nothing, nothing,” Percy sighed, “you’ll find out soon enough.</p><p>Oliver had absolutely not the slightest clue what he was on about, but the game was starting, and well, Quidditch was Quidditch no matter the level of playing and he was hooked.</p><p>About five minutes in, a kid pushed Lucy off her broom and Oliver was up and shouting before Audrey or Percy could hold him back. </p><p>“Come on ref! That’s a foul if I’ve ever seen one! Someone help my niece back up on her broom, you do not want me to come down there! Who is even coaching these teams? This is Little League, not a wrestling match!” Oliver bellowed.</p><p>“How do you even know what wrestling is?” Audrey asked while Percy tugged the back of his shirt to get him to return to his seat. </p><p>“Took Muggle Studies at Hogwarts,” Oliver reluctantly sat back down.</p><p>Unfortunately, about 3 minutes after they got Oliver to sit he was back up on his feet, this time headed down to the sidelines. </p><p>“What the bloody f is this? That kid just swung his bat and hit our chaser right in the face, is someone going to give him a penalty?” </p><p>“Sir,” the Ref sighed, “it’s Little League, they don’t know what they’re doing. It isn’t that serious. Just let them have fun.”</p><p>“You better keep a better eye on my kids, I’m not playing around with you,” he squinted at the ref.</p><p>Oliver headed back to his seat, “honestly, you’d think they would care more about the well being of these kids.”</p><p>“Ollie, you do know that the Beater’s bat is plastic made of air right?” Percy asked.</p><p>“Oh.”</p><p>“Yeah, it’s Little League, it really is not that serious,” Percy sighed.</p><p>Percy was sure that they had finally convinced Wood to act like a normal human being and cheer on the team, but of course not. Why should he hope for the tiniest of victories? Because right when Oliver seemed to calm down and enjoy himself, he caught wind of the opposing coach cheering on his team. </p><p>“Why is that coach telling his team that it’s okay because they’re winners no matter what?” Oliver reached a hand above his head to block the sunlight. “Did he convince the Ref to let them win regardless? Are they cheating together?”</p><p>“No, Ollie,” Percy said.</p><p>“Wait, who even is their coach?” Oliver squinted again, “hold up!”</p><p>“Oh no,” Percy moaned, “please, no.”</p><p>“I know that coach! Is that fucking Flint?” Oliver bellowed.</p><p>One of the moms behind him leaned over, “right fit that Flint. Wish he’d just let us out of our misery and let one of us take him out so we’d know what his type was.”</p><p>Oliver couldn’t believe himself, “I’m sorry, am I hearing that right? You’d want to go out with Flint? <i>Marcus Flint?</i>”</p><p>“Absolutely,” she fanned herself, “he’s so dreamy and just so good with the kids.”</p><p>Oliver sat there in disbelief. He just could not compute the man she was talking about with the boy he knew. The Marcus Flint he knew was a dirty, dirty cheat. So when he heard Flint congratulate his team for the bludger that knocked their Seeker off his broom, he couldn’t help himself for calling out to the Ref again.</p><p>“Alright, Ref, what is it? He bribe you or some shit? Cause I’m sick of that team hurting my kids.”</p><p>“Sir, I’m sure whichever children are yours will be just fine,” the Ref was obviously done with his shit.</p><p>“Oh, uh, I’m not actually a parent,” Oliver kicked the grass.</p><p>“Then kindly shut up, or volunteer to be a coach like all the other passionate fans.”</p><p>“Not a bad idea man,” Oliver clapped him on the shoulder. </p><p>And if Oliver went to Lucy’s coach, ripped the clipboard out of his hand, and proceeded to direct the rest of the game, well, he was just doing his civic duty of being a fantastic Uncle and helping coach his niece’s team. It had absolutely nothing to do with his personal vendetta against the opposite coach. Or the chance to see him again, absolutely nothing. </p><p>--</p><p>Now Oliver finds himself coaching a team of mildly terrible Little Leaguers. He basically relegated the other coach to bringing snacks for the team, and he’s pushing the kids harder than they’ve ever worked before. It’ll all be worth it, he tells himself, when we win the final. </p><p>--</p><p>“Okay team,” Oliver gathers his little leaguers into a huddle, standing with his hands on his hips, “we’re going to go out there and smash them. Completely annihilate the other team. They will bow to our greatness, they will tremble in our presence, they will be defeated!” Oliver was breathing heavily by the end of his speech, “any questions?”</p><p>Little Max raises his hand, Oliver waves for him to go ahead, “can we get pizza if we win?”</p><p>“Absolutely! If that’s what it takes for you all to win, then pizza you will get.”<br/>
--</p><p>Oliver really regrets telling his team they could get pizza if they win, because he’s now had to eat pizza for three Saturdays in a row and it’s really messing up his Quidditch diet. The bright side is that they have now won the last three games and are steadily climbing up the rankings. They’re scheduled to play Flint’s team this weekend, and he’s been working on plays his team could actually execute at their age all week. </p><p>Percy keeps telling him that half the parents hate him now, but the kids are still excited about pizza so Oliver thinks the whole thing is a win in his book. Besides, who doesn’t like winning?</p><p>--</p><p>The game against Flint is the closest game they have all season. Oliver can feel the glare he’s receiving from Flint from across the field. When they shake hands at the end, Oliver can’t help but rub it in his face, “so you still can’t beat me huh?”</p><p>Flint grips his hand tighter, “for fuck’s sake Wood, it’s Little League.”</p><p>“Yes,” Oliver nods, pulling his hand away to wipe it against his robes, “a little league match you can’t win.”</p><p>Flint sneers at him, “we’ll see you in the finals, wanker.”</p><p>--</p><p>The final match is in full swing and Oliver thinks he’s finally starting to understand why the parents on his team hate him. It’s Little League, most of the kids are playing just to be active and here he is yelling at them to do better. He wants to win, but at what cost. </p><p>He looks across the field to Flint who hasn’t so much as raised his voice once. His team loves him and the parents on both sides flock to games just to watch how he interacts with the children. Oliver doesn’t want to admit it but when he looks over and he’s braiding one of his chasers’ hair, he melts a little. Why does Flint have to be so good? It’s like he’s completely changed from who they were as teenagers.</p><p>Oliver calls for a time out and gathers his team around him, “come in guys.” He takes a huge breath before attempting a smile, “how about this? We forget everything I told you to do and just have fun? And instead of pizza we’ll go get tacos afterwards.”</p><p>He looks around at all the little faces that make up his team, but they seem to be staring at him in confusion. Max raises his hand, “do we still need to do the stratedies?”</p><p>“Forget the strategies,” Oliver waves him off, “just go out and have fun. How’s that sound?”</p><p>Lucy squints her eyes at her godfather, “and we’ll still get tacos whether we win or lose? Why not pizza?”</p><p>“Do you guys not like tacos?” He hears a chorus of ‘no’, ‘we love tacos’, and ‘they’re the best’, and allows himself to grin. “Then get back out there and have fun! Make memories! Do kid things.”</p><p>--</p><p>It comes as little surprise when they lose. They get absolutely slaughtered, but the kids have fun and it’s the happiest he’s seen them all season. The team goes for tacos and he tells all the parents that he’s resigning as coach. He hasn’t heard so many cheers outside of a Professional Quidditch pitch since Harry Potter won them the war. </p><p>He knows he should probably apologize to more than just the kids and their family, but he figures he won’t see most of these people again and hopefully they’ll still let him attend games to cheer on his goddaughter. He feels a small pang of regret that this is the way Flint has seen him outside of a Professional Quidditch pitch in years, but he also refuses to acknowledge just why that is. It’s not like they’ll have a chance to run into each other often or anything anyways.</p><p>--</p><p>Oliver is coming down from their loss against the Falcons about as well as he always does when losing, which is to say, fucking terribly. He’s a sore loser, he knows this about himself, and regardless of how much he wishes it would change it just seems to stick with him. He’s getting ready to go drown himself in the showers when he’s stopped by a shout of his name, or well the third shout, he ignores the first two.</p><p>“Wood, Oliver, for fuck’s sake Oliver Wood will you bloody listen to me?”</p><p>He finally turns to ask who’s been yelling for him, when the words die on his tongue at the sight of Marcus Flint running to him, trying to flag him down. He opens his mouth a couple times in an attempt to speak, but he honestly doesn’t know why Flint would try to talk to him so he isn’t sure what he should say. </p><p>“Merlin Wood, you couldn’t stop the first time?” Flint inhales a huge breath. </p><p>Oliver tilts his head to the side in confusion, “what do’ya want?”</p><p>Flint rolls his eyes, mumbles something under his breath about ‘still bloody infuriating’, then speaks at a normal volume, “why’d ya quit coaching Little League?”</p><p>Oliver laughs, “cause I bloody sucked,” he mumbles through the laughter.</p><p>“Well fair, but still.”</p><p>“You aren’t even going to pretend I was good?” Oliver puts his hands on his hips.</p><p>Flint smirks, “not even a little bit, you just really aren’t good at losing are ya?”</p><p>Oliver waves a hand around the pitch, “what part of this shows I’m a good sport?”</p><p>It’s Flint’s turn to tilt his head back and laugh. He looks good when he’s happy, Oliver has always been a sucker for a killer smile and he’s not ashamed to admit he finds Flint attractive now that he’s fixed his messed up teeth. </p><p>“Well anyways, I hope you still come to cheer us on next year,” Flint smiled at him, it lit up his whole face.</p><p>Oliver huffs, “of course I will, my goddaughter plays Keeper.”</p><p>Flint puts a hand to his chin, “is that Weasley’s kid?”</p><p>Oliver laughs, hitting Flint on the arm, “as if half the league aren’t Weasley’s.”</p><p>“You know which one I meant though, the one in our year, Percy right? That makes sense I guess, you two were always so close. Pretty sure half our year thought you were dating.”</p><p>Oliver chokes on his spit, “I’m sorry what?”</p><p>Flint continues on as if he hadn’t heard him, “yeah, it’s why I was so angry all the time. The object of my affections was taken.”</p><p>“You had a thing for Percy?!” Oliver practically yells.</p><p>Flint laughs and laughs, “oh god, that’s rich. Of bloody course not. Are you daft? You have to admit there was sexual tension between us.”</p><p>“Sexual what now?” Oliver raises his eyebrows, “and should we be talking about this in the middle of the pitch when there are reporters around?”</p><p>Flint shrugs, “I’m comfortable in my sexuality, and I’m comfortable in my attraction to you.”</p><p>“Attrac- I’m sorry, what? You did not use the past tense.”</p><p>Flint begins to walk away, “no I did not.” Oliver stares after him for what feels like hours. Marcus is almost off the pitch when he turns to look over his shoulder, “are you coming or not?”</p><p>--</p><p>Oliver may or may not still be in Marcus’s bed the next day when the Daily Prophet drops off the morning paper detailing the potential relationship between Flint and Wood. He’ll never admit that he grins into his pillow when Marcus points it out to him, asking if he should do an interview about how great the sex is.</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>